A Strong East Wind
by Eyes-Like-Open-Doors
Summary: 170 years after Harry Potter defeated Tom Riddle in the Second Wizarding World. An unwilling hero rises from the ashes of her ancestor's legacy to change the history of the past and of the future. Meet the next great witch: Sasha Potter.
1. Teaser Summary

Peace has reigned the wizarding world for one hundred and seventy years.

But no peace can last.

A new wave of self-proclaimed purebloods begin to threaten the quiet peace.

A child is born who will bring an end to the Third Wizarding World.

The Elder Wand, whose existence has faded into legend and was passed down secretly through generations of a trusted family, falls into the hands of the single person in the world who can wield it.

A young girl is unknowingly swept into the foreboding war before she has even entered the halls of Hogwarts School of Wizardry ad Witchcraft.

An unwilling hero rises from the ashes of a legendary legacy.

The chaos of war ensues, full of betrayal, heartbreak, and an overwhelming amount of loss.


	2. Prologue

Prologue

* * *

A light tinkling bell sounded as a young girl pushed open the door and stepped into the wand shop located in Diagon Alley.

The wandmaker watched the girl who had just stepped through his door. She walked easily and quietly through the front of the store. Paths of swirling dust motes stirred in the air behind her. Her hair was so black that it seemed to collect the sunlight. She peered up at the shelves upon shelves of wand boxes.

The wandmaker frowned. There was something oddly familiar about her dark hair with the cowlick in the front and the slope of her nose and the rise of her cheekbones. He couldn't place the connection, but knew that he would eventually discover why she was familiar to his eyes.

Oliver Adams, named for his distant ancestor who was also a wand maker, walked forward to greet the girl.

"Hello." He said, trying carefully not to scare her.

It didn't make a difference; she turned towards him, as if she knew that he had been there. He felt something falter in either his mind or his heart when her large eyes met his. They were so vividly green that they almost looked unnatural.

"Good afternoon." She said in a voice like softly falling water. "You are Mr. Adams, yes?"

Something about her put him on edge, but he masked it well. "I am. Are you shopping for your own wand?" He had never before met a child that made him so unsettled.

"Yes; my first. I'm going to Hogwarts for my first year soon." Her arched brows knit together. "There are so many, will it take a long time to find one?"

He smiled. "It depends entirely on the witch or wizard. You are left handed, yes?" He had noticed the way she absently twisted the fingers on her left hand together.

"I am."

"That's rather rare. Are your parents left handed?"

"No; I taught myself to use my left hand." She seemed as if she was going to say more, but the wandmaker turned his back to her and she stopped.

The man ran his fingers over the narrow wand boxes and picked a few off of the shelves. To the girl, it seemed that he picked them at random.

"Try this one." He said, handing her a particularly slim wand. "Give it a whirl."

She picked up the wand, frowning at its weight and fragile feel and swished it in the air. Nothing happened.

"That's quite alright, hardly ever find the perfect fit the first time." He took it from her, frowning. He thought maybe the gentle wand would match the girl's softness.

"Try this one." This wand was longer and perfectly straight.

Again, nothing happened.

Seventeen wands later, the girl was scowling and the wandmaker was intrigued.

It seemed that the girl herself was not at all how she seemed. None of the wands that he thought would have suited her reacted at all. And with each passing failure, her eyes grew sharper and the air around her seemed to grow more charged with electricity.

"Where are your parents, child?" He asked as he picked up another wand box.

"My father is on Auror business and my mother is busy with my younger brother." She said with a sigh. "I will meet her after I am done here."

"What did you say your name was?"

"I didn't." She said as she opened the box. "It's Sasha. Sasha Potter."

Oliver Adams snatched the wand from her at once. "_Potter?_" He asked, studying her features again. _Of course. _He thought. _The hair. The eyes. A spitting image of Harry Potter._

"Yes. That's what I said." She frowned.

The man replaced the pile of wand boxes with shaking hands. "What are your thoughts on death, Miss Potter?"

"Excuse me?"

"How do you feel about death?"

Sasha Potter shifted under the wandmaker's gaze. "I suppose it is a sad thing, but everyone has their time to die."

She said it with such somber maturity that the wandmaker was sure she told the truth.

"Wait here." He disappeared into the back of his shop.

He opened a secret cabinet that was hidden with very complex spells in the wall. He reached into the small space, which held only a handful of items. He drew out a very dusty black box. He brushed his hands over it, trying his best to control the trembling of them. This very box had been passed down from father to son in his family for nearly two centuries. He returned to the girl.

"This was the wand of one of your ansectors. He was very famous, you have no doubt heard the stories." He licked his lips nervously as he held out the box to her.

She took it, saying "Harry Potter, you mean?"

He nodded.

Sasha carefully slid the lip of the box off. She looked down at the wand, her green eyes carefully unemotional. It was very long, maybe around fifteen inches, and it was peculiar looking with a few bead shaped bumps along its length. She picked it up gingerly and nearly dropped it in surprise.

It hummed under her fingers.

None of the other wands had done that.

She looked up at the wandmaker. His eyes were burning with anticipation. He nodded to her. She flicked her wrist.

Gold light burst from the end of the wand. It swirled around the girl, weaving through her hair and brushing against her skin. It filled the air between the wandmaker and the young girl. The light intensified before shooting towards the high ceiling of the shop and exploding into violet fireworks.

The girl was smiling with content.

Oliver Adams stared; he had never seen a display like that. It frightened him almost as much as it excited him.

The wandmaker's smile shook. "Very good then. That's your wand." He hid the uneasiness he felt roll around in his stomach. "Take good care of it. Don't let anyone else use it, mind you."

Sasha Potter handed over her money and left the store, clutching the wand to her chest. She didn't realize the enormous importance of what had just happened, but Oliver Adams certainly did.

* * *

**Author's Note**

_And that's it; the start of my next fanfiction; if it gets good feedback, I'll continue it. So if you're even the least bit interested, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE review!_

_If you don't have a FanFiction account, go to my tumblr and drop a comment in my Ask Box (you don't need an account)! I would appreciate it SO much! ( .com )_

xoxo

K


	3. The Years Disappeared

Chapter 1

* * *

**FIRST YEAR**

Three days later, Sasha stood on Platform 9¾ nervously. She stood between her parents, silently watching the large train waiting in the cloud of warm steam.

Evan Potters was tall. He stood out in the crowd, already dressed in his somber black Auror gear. He had a job to do after she left. His hair was the same black color as his daughter's, but it was smooth and cleanly cut. His eyes were hazel and sharp.

Molly Potter was much shorter than her husband, with a face of simply features and beauty. She looked much kinder than Evan, and she held the hand of Sasha's younger brother.

Tomas Potter, who was two years younger than his sister, took after their mother in looks. His hair was fluffy and a rich light brown color. His nose was smaller than Sasha's and his father's and it turned up ever so slightly at the tip. He was watching the train with bright, eager eyes.

"Do I _really _have to wait two more years, mum?" He asked.

"You can go in my place." Sasha muttered under her breath. She flinched when the whistle blew loudly overhead.

"Have you got all your things?" Molly asked, looking at her daughter's large trunk. "Your books, your cauldron? Your wand?"

Sasha sighed. "Yes, mum and my owl and my quills. I've got everything."

"All set with your belongings, miss?" A man asked. "I'll get it on the train for you. Is it labeled?"

"Yes." Sasha answered before her mother could continue to nag. "I'll carry the owl though. Thank you."

He smiled at her and levitated her heavy trunk onto the train before him.

"Write us letters, you here?" Molly Potter said to her only daughter. There were tears in her clear eyes.

"Yes, mum." Sasha hugged her mother.

"Don't do anything stupid." Her father whispered into her ear as she hugged him.

Sasha ruffled her little brother's hair before picking up the cage that held her owl and stepping towards the train. She stepped over the gap between the platform and the train. She hesitated before entering the car.

She didn't know a single person here and she had no older sibling to grease her path. Would she fit in? Would she be made fun of? Would she be unable to perform any magic at all?

Of course, she knew that she wasn't a Squib. She had already had plenty of accidental magic incidents.

Sasha drew comfort from the hum of magic from her wand against her skin. She had it tucked under her shirt and the waistband of her jeans. She stepped into the car.

It was full of kids, shouting and moving about like one entity. Sasha found herself swept along, clutching the owl's cage desperately. She saw a compartment door that was not completely shut and darted into it.

Sitting alone in the compartment was by far the prettiest boy she had ever seen. He had golden hair and skin that was more flawless than hers. He looked up at her with dark eyes.

"Do you mind?" She asked, gesturing towards the seat across from him. "It's a bit crazy out there."

He smiled. "It's fine. I was worried I'd have to sit by myself. Are you a first year?"

She set the cage down and nodded. Her owl was ruffling his feathers in irritation. She drew her wand from under her shirt to hold it in her hand as she sat. She was terrified of breaking the thing. "I'm Sasha." She reached her hand across to him.

He shook it awkwardly. "I'm Tristan Di Angelo. You have your own owl?"

Sasha looked down at the large, white faced owl and smiled. "It was a gift from my father for my last birthday. His name's Badar; it means -."

"Moon in Arabic." Tristan finished with a smile. "I like books." He offered as explanation.

Sasha smiled. "Do you have an animal?" He looked like a cat person to her.

He shook his head and avoided her gaze. "No."

"That's alright." She said brightly. "Maybe you can get one next year. Did your parents go to Hogwarts?" As many children were, Sasha usually lacked tact and her observance skills were not very good.

"I dunno. I never knew my parents."

Sasha's eyes widened. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean-."

"It's fine." He interrupted. "You had no way of knowing, of course."

Sasha smiled, relieved that she hadn't botched anything up with this boy. She was fideling with her wand when the compartment slid open.

A pretty dark skinned girl looked in. "Can I sit with you? It's full everywhere else."

Sasha slid over to make room.

"I'm Megyn Zabini." She said, holding her hand out to Tristan. "First year."

Sasha looked at her in surprise. The Zabini family was an ancient and well known name. She hadn't known that there was a Zabini girl her own age.

"What's your name?" The girl asked Sasha.

"Sasha." It seemed Megyn Zabini was waiting for her to finish. Sasha grimaced. "Potter."

Both Tristan and Megyn's eyes widened. "You're a Potter?"

She sighed. "Obviously." Her father had warned her of this; being a Potter was still seen as something to be extraordinarily prideful about. Their family was one of the oldest left in the wizarding world. "You're a Zabini." She said to Megyn. "You're family's as old as mine."

Megyn shrugged her narrow shoulders. "But my family isn't known for anything heroic."

Sasha felt uncomfortable. "That was almost two hundred years ago."

Tristan seemed to notice how she fidgeted. He pointed at her wand. "Can you cast any spells with that?"

Sasha grinned. "Of course."

The three of them spent the next few hours testing out spells from Tristan's schoolbook. Sasha managed to turn her hair blue; Megyn gave Tristan itchy hives by accident; Tristan made the compartment door slam open, drawing the stares of some fourth years from the compartment across from them.

Sasha was sick of being nervous; this entire day consisted of her nervously waiting for the inevitable to happen. Now, she stood towards the back of the crowd of first years with Tristan and Megyn by her side. The Headmaster was calling out names and the child would climb onto a three legged stool to be sorted by the ragged Sorting Hat.

"Tristan Di Angelo!"

Sasha tried to smile encouragingly at him. "Good luck."

He pushed through the crowd and sat stiffly on the stool as the young Headmaster lowered the hat onto his head.

It was only a few long seconds before the hat shouted: "Ravenclaw!"

As they had with the other initiates, the table of Ravenclaws cheered. Sasha was barely surprised; from what she could tell from the train ride, Tristan was extraordinarily intelligent.

Sasha shifted her weight back and forth until her name was called.

"Sasha Potter!"

The low drone of whispers that had filled the hall dissolved. Sasha ran a hand through her messy hair as she walked forward. The crowd of first years parted before her, unlike how they had for the others.

Sasha sat on the stool. The young Headmaster smiled kindly before resting the hat on her head. She wasn't surprised when the hat began to whisper in her ear; she had heard the stories.

"Another Potter? A girl this time?" The hat said in a small voice. "There hasn't been a female Potter since Lily Luna Potter, but that was many generations ago."

_I know. _Sasha thought. _I get it a lot. _

"Stubborn. That seems to be a strong trait in you Potters. Braver than most I have seen before. Hmm. So much power. Where shall we put it? Where shall we put you?"

Irritation flashed through Sasha.

"Gryffindor!" The hat shouted, but before the Headmaster could take the hat of her head, it hissed softly to her. "You're a diamond in the rough, Sasha Potter. You're destiny hovers over you like a heavy shadow. Will you grow into it? Or will you let it crush you?"

Sasha felt herself numb slightly as she stumbled down the stairs and to the Gryffindor table. She sat between two older students who made room for her. She stared down at her empty plate, deaf to the cheers around her and the stares of those around her.

Distantly, she heard Megyn Zabini be sorted into Slytherin.

Distantly, she felt disappointment because the two people she had befriended were not in her own house.

Sasha fit into her house as well as anyone else. She found herself quickly befriending two third year girls and their friends. She attended classes, walked the halls, and ate meals as a Gryffindor. She saw Megyn Zabini and Tristan Di Angelo from a distance, always separated by their houses and a crowd of students. She found herself despising that and missing the two students she had met on the Hogwarts Express.

Near the end of her first year, Sasha stumbled back into Tristan. She was sitting in the library with her feet propped up on the table and a book open in her lap. She tilted the chair back on the back two legs absently as she read.

She jerked in alarm when someone slammed a pile of books onto the table in front of her. She looked up and straight into the dark eyes of Tristan Di Angelo. His pretty face was twisted into a scowl.

"How did you do it?"

"Do what?" She asked with a frown, shutting her book.

"You're first in the class!" He snapped. "You don't even try; you don't care about school work at all!"

"What place are you?" She masked her surprise behind another question.

"Second." He sat down. "How did you do it?"

She shrugged. "I didn't. I haven't studied for a single test and I barely finish my homework in time."

His face darkened. "That's not fair! I try harder than _anyone._"

Sasha blinked her large eyes at him. "I'm sorry."

They read across from each other at the same table for the next hour.

The next day, Tristan found Sasha at the same table.

"Why'd you do that?" He shouted, forgetting where he was.

"Do what?" She flipped a page in her book.

"You failed one of the Magical Creatures test! Those are the _easiest _tests!"

"Excuse me!" The librarian snapped. "Lower your voice or leave."

Tristan sat down, seething in anger and glaring at Sasha.

"Are you still in second place?"

Tristan faltered. "No. You are."

Sasha shut her book. "Perhaps my lack of studying has finally come around to bite me in the arse."

Tristan couldn't help but smile. "Thank you, Sasha."

"You're welcome, Tristan."

Sasha was pleased when, later that day, Tristan grinned at her in the hallway. Even the crowd of Gryffindors around Sasha, and the crowd of Ravenclaws around Tristan, and all the others in between wouldn't separate those who were meant to be friends.

* * *

**SECOND YEAR**

On the very first day of Potions class, the professor decided that it would be in his interest to partner up his class. One Gryffindor and one Slytherin to each table.

As soon as he announced this, Sasha felt dread creep through her. She was on good terms with all of the Gryffindors in her year. She wasn't on good terms with any Slytherins, except for maybe Megyn, but she hadn't had a real conversation with the girl since before they had been sorted. Even so, Sasha prayed that she would be paired with Megyn.

"Miss Potter and Miss Zabini."

Sasha and Megyn stared at each other in surprise. Had they honestly gotten that lucky? They sat next to each other at a table near the back.

"You're the only Gryffindor I could have tolerated. Pretty decent luck, yeah?" Megyn said with a smirk.

Sasha grinned. "Thank Merlin for that."

And almost at once, they were friends. Megyn had enough backbone not to be bothered by the comments her housemates said about her and the Gryffindor Potter. Sasha was sharp enough to shoot down any insults thrown in her directions. She cared less about house rivalries than anyone.

It wasn't long before Sasha Potter, Tristan Di Angelo and Megyn Zabini became close friends and famous through the school because of it. They paid no heed to the attention until it became in their own interest to.

* * *

**THIRD YEAR**

"Tomas Potter!"

Sasha beamed as her brother walked bravely up to the Sorting Hat stool.

"Hufflepuff!"

Sasha had wanted Tomas to be in Gryffindor, but Hufflepuff fit him so much better. He was laid back and the most openly friendly person Sasha knew. She applauded with the Hufflepuff table as her only sibling dashed down the steps to the long table of Hufflepuffs.


	4. The Start of Everything

Chapter 2

* * *

**TWO YEARS LATER: FOURTH YEAR**

Sasha Potter waited on the platform alone this year with her brother by her side. Their two trunks sat on a trolley next to the fifteen year old girl.

Tomas was on his toes, trying to see over the crowd. He was already the same height as Sasha, despite the two year age gap. He wore his uniform, though his yellow tie was loose around his neck.

Sasha, on the other hand, was still dressed in her everyday clothes: jeans, tall black boots, and a snug gray sweater. At fifteen, she was lean and looked as if she had just rolled out of bed even if she had been up for hours. Now, her long dark hair was knotted loosely at the base of her neck. Her owl, Badar, perched on her shoulder. He had grown weary of his cage. Sasha twirled her wand absently between her fingers.

"I wish you'd stop doing that." Tomas grumbled. "You look as if you're going to hex someone."

His sister's unsettling green eyes snapped to his face. "You look as if you're going to be sick, little brother." She looked up when Badar flapped his wings. "Tristan!"

The Ravenclaw flashed a handsome grin and jogged over to them with his trunk floating behind him. He was as beautiful as usual; he had grown nearly two feet since first year, but he still had the golden hair. His skin had turned golden from the sun. Girls from every year, and the occasional boy, stared at him as he passed.

Sasha embraced him with one arm as not to dislodge Badar.

"Have you seen Megyn?" He asked.

"Not since last week. I thought she'd be here already." Sasha said.

"How was the rest of your summer?" Tristan attempted to pet Badar, but the barn owl snapped at his fingers and he frowned.

"Peaceful." Sasha smiled.

Tomas was scowling. He grabbed his trunk. "I'm going to find someone my own age." He began to lug his trunk away.

"Tom!" Sasha waved her wand. Tomas' trunk shrunk until it would fit into his palm. "Have Nicole undo the spell once you get to your dorms. She'll know the spell."

He smiled a bit. "Thanks." He ran off.

Tristan snorted. "I see Megyn."

Sasha looked for only a moment before spotting her dark skinned friend through the crowd. "Merlin help us."

Megyn was pushing a trolley practically overflowing with trunks. She was wearing her uniform already, though it was shortened and looked to be made of finer material than anyone elses'. She smiled when she saw them and released her trolley to embrace them both at the same time.

Badar hissed as he was jostled from his perch.

"Sorry, Baddie." Megyn clucked her tongue at him as she dodged the ill-tempered bird's beak.

"For Godric's sake, Meg." Sasha said. "You could have shrunk them down or something."

"Mom's already gotten me out of three underage magic punishments."

"Hang the rules." Sasha flicked her wrist, using the same spell as she had on Tomas' bag.

"You shouldn't do that, Sasha." Megyn frowned. "If you get caught, you'll be in trouble."

"And somehow, she never gets caught." Tristan said. "Can we get a compartment before we end up sitting with a bunch of whiny first years like last year?"

Sasha slapped his arm. "We sat with my _brother._"

Megyn grinned. "Exactly." She danced away from Sasha's fist and skipped into the train.

Tristan shook his head and followed her. Sasha raised her fist for Badar to land on, tucking her wand behind her ear at the same time. She glanced over her shoulder at Platform 9¾, half hoping that her parents had been able to make it in time.

She didn't see them anywhere and sighed. Their work had been harder than usual; it wasn't rare for her to go a week without seeing either her mother or her father. And now, it wouldn't be another four months until she had another chance.

"Sasha! Let's go!" Megyn shouted from one of the windows.

Sasha walked into the train, pushing aside younger students with feigned arrogance and sliding around the older ones with respect. Even so, stares and whispers followed her constantly. By now, she had learned to tune them out and not let them go to her head.

* * *

"You'd think they'd have gotten used to us by now." Megyn muttered from Sasha's right side.

The three of them were walking down the corridor towards Herbology their first morning of classes two days later. They drew stares like honey drew bees. Tristan was tall and glowing, but his nose was already between the pages of a book and he completely disregarded the attention. Megyn was wearing heels that made her nearly four inches taller and she was an exotic beauty even at a young age. Sasha's large eyes were bleary with sleep and she wore her uniform messily; her red and gold tie was loose, her shirt was only buttoned with four buttons, her skirt was hemmed six inches shorter, and her slim fitting sneakers were hurriedly laced. Her hair was braided loosely in a twist on the back of her head.

"You'd think you'd have gotten used to the fact that anything out of the ordinary is the most interesting thing at this school." Tristan said dryly, not looking up from his book. "They won't get used to it until we graduate."

Sasha yawned. "I still can't believe neither of you brought me any breakfast."

"Where were you anyway?" Megyn asked.

"I slept in." Sasha yawned again. "Though I still only got a few hours of sleep."

"Still having trouble with the wand?" Tristan asked, glancing at the peculiar looking wand tucked into the coils of her hair.

"Not as much." Sasha reached towards it, brushing it with one of her fingers. "It seems to listen to me better."

He frowned. "I'm still trying to figure out why it continues to resist you."

She smiled at him. "I'm sure you'll find the answer. It matters to you more than me, though."

Megyn snapped at a third year who ran into her. "Watch it, brat!"

"Meg." Sasha groaned, touching her temple. "It's too early for your shouting. Leave the poor girl alone."

"No, it's too early for Herbology." She said as they walked into the greenhouses. "Honestly, who cares about a bunch of stinky old plants?"

"Many people rely on these _stinky old plants_, Miss Zabini." The young professor said, walking past them from behind.

Megyn groaned. "Why didn't you warn me?" She muttered to Sasha and Tristan.

Sasha ignored her and let her eyelids droop as they leaned against one wall. Tristan shut his book with a sigh and didn't answer her. Megyn glowered at them and turned towards the professor as he began to speak.

"Welcome to Herbology. If you aren't a fourth year student, you're most probably in the wrong place. My name is Rook Johansson." He spoke in short and forceful sentences. "This is my first year teaching at Hogwarts."

Sasha's eyes opened to narrow slits against the morning sun that shone through the windows. She looked eerily like a cat as she stared at the teacher. Something about the way he spoke made her want to listen; it made her respect him; it made her wary of him.

"Ever heard of him?" She whispered to Tristan.

He was frowning. "It sounds oddly familiar."

Megyn leaned against Sasha. "He's gorgeous."

Sasha looked at the man again. She had only noticed the way he had spoken, but Megyn was right. He was tall, with chestnut hair and a clean shaven face, but Sasha was wary of him no matter how pretty his face was.

"He doesn't really seem like a Herbology teacher." Sasha muttered.

"Miss Potter!"

Sasha stared at him. How did he know her name? "Professor Johansson?"

"Would you care to demonstrate for the class how to properly harvest an _Abyssian Shrivelfig_ plant?" he gestured towards the potted plant on the table in front of him.

Sasha's eyebrow rose slightly as she tugged her wand from her hair. Her braid fell loosely down her back. She glared at the professor and flicked her wrist slightly. Her silent _Diffindo _spell was clean and perfect, as were most her spells.

She saw the professor's jaw jump slightly. "Very good, but I expect you to pay attention to my lesson even if you know the material."

Sasha shrugged. She twirled her wand between her fingers. She frowned slightly when she saw the professor look at her with confused respect. Sasha returned to the space between Tristan and Megyn.

"That was odd." Megyn whispered. "That spell is really easy."

"What's more odd is the way he watched you." Tristan muttered. "He looked… awed."

Sasha watched as the new professor moved across the room. "I don't believe that he's just a Herbology professor."

Tristan frowned. "Sasha. What else could he be?"

"I'm going to find out." Her voice was edged with sharpness.

"Sasha!" Megyn hissed. "You can't! You haven't even had a full transformation yet!"

"I'm close." She crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't trust him."

Tristan cracked open his book again, ignoring the Herbology professor and his cynical best friend. His other best friend observed her nails as Sasha continued to watch the professor carefully.

* * *

Sasha was sitting in the Great Hall during her one free periods of the day when Badar landed on the table in front of her. He had dropped a rolled up newspaper and a letter. Sasha set aside her Transfiguration book.

She read the letter first. It was from her mother. Molly Potter apologized for not seeing Sasha off, promising that both she and Sasha's father would have time off over Christmas holiday. She also asked for Sasha to write them back quickly.

Sasha tucked the letter into her bag and then unrolled the newspaper with a snap, drawing a couple of glances from the handful of other students in the hall. Sasha ignored them and scanned the headlines.

Nothing dreadfully interesting; a protest of a magical creature law, a Wizengamot case or two that had surprising outcomes, a small article about a Pureblood family donating money to St. Mungo's, the victim of an assault suing her attacker.

Sasha tossed the paper aside. She rarely read the paper and she certainly wasn't about to start now. She had OWLs to worry about.

Badar hooted and ran his beak through Sasha's hair. She smiled at him and pulled out a strip of dried meat that she kept with her most of the time. The owl snatched it from her fingers and settled on her shoulder and she bent over her Transfiguration book again.


	5. Don't You Wonder

Chapter 3

* * *

A week later, Sasha received a note from the Headmaster through Badar. It asked her to come to his office as soon as she was able. Sasha sighed.

"I've got to go." She said to Megyn and Tristan.

"Why?" Megyn cried. "I wanted to teach you how to fly today!" Megyn was the Slytherin's seeker and one of the best flyers in the school.

Tristan spoke before Sasha could. "Professor Speare wishes to speak to her."

Sasha glanced sharply into Tristan's eyes. "How the bloody hell do you always know _everything_?"

He smirked. "I'm a master of the power of deduction."

"And the biggest ego in Ravenclaw." Megyn snapped. "Try to be swift, Sasha."

Sasha nodded and hurried towards the Headmaster's office.

* * *

"Miss Potter." Jules Speare smiled at the small girl when she walked into his office. "Thank you for coming to speak to me."

"Is something the matter?" She sat nervously, trying to remember if she had done something against the rules recently.

The Headmaster smile didn't waver. "You didn't do anything wrong that I know of, if that's what you're worried about."

She laughed without humor. "Oh, good." If that wasn't it, why was she here?

"Have you read the paper recently, Miss Potter?"

She was sharp enough to see the way the Headmaster continuously glanced at her wand, which was precariously stabbed through her ponytail. "Um, a few days ago I think." She answered.

"Do your parents talk to you about their work at all?"

Sasha's eyes narrowed. "If they did, would you expect me to tell you the specifics?"

Speare laughed. "Of course not; I was just curious about how much you know about the world outside of Hogwarts. Goings on and such."

Sasha shrugged. "I guess I know enough not to look like a complete dolt."

"That's good. You should know that even though you are young, you can have an impact on the world – on society. Even a child can change the course of history."

"Yes, Headmaster?" She agreed with a question; she didn't understand why this conversation was happening.

"I suppose you don't want to listen to an old man ramble on. How are your classes going so far this year?"

Sasha didn't think he was very old; fifty five at the most. "They're good, not very challenging but who's complaining?"

He cracked a smile. "How do you like Professor Johansson, the Herbology teacher?"

A flicker of a frown raced across her features. "He's curious. Where is he from?"

"He's from the south; Newquay I believe. Why do you think he's curious?"

Sasha avoided the Headmaster's eyes. "The way he talks, and he knew my name on the very first day."

Jules laughed a bit. "You're Sasha Potter, most people know who you are."

"I knew that kids did, but I didn't realize that grown-ups did."

"Every Potter is worth keeping tabs on, Miss Potter." Jules said kindly. "To some, you are particularly interesting."

Before Sasha could gather a reply to that, a distant bell rang.

"You should return to class, Miss Potter."

She stood with a bit of a frown. "Of course, Headmaster. Thank you." _I think. _

As she turned to leave, she heard two sharp gasps that neither belonged to the Headmaster.

"Child!"

Sasha turned in surprise. Her eyes travelled directly to the source of the voice: a painting of an old man with a silvery gray beard that had been empty since she had been in the room.

"You are a descendent of Harry Potter?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"Through his son James and the last Malfoy heir, Albus." Speare said.

The painting wasn't looking directly at Sasha, but at something a bit above her head. "May I see your wand, Miss Potter?"

Frowning, Sasha drew the wand from her hair. She held it out towards the painting.

The old wizard in the painting smiled then. His blue eyes seemed to brighten. "Extraordinary." Sasha heard him whisper before raising his voice. "It was very nice to meet you, Miss Potter. I'm Albus Dumbledore; I was Headmaster a very long time ago."

"When Harry Potter was a student here." She said with a nod. "I've read up on my own history."

He laughed. "Extraordinary indeed. Run off to classes, Miss Potter; I hope that you'll stop by sometime and speak to me again."

"I will if I have the time." Sasha said politely; she tucked her wand back into her hair as she turned and walked quickly out of the Headmaster's office.

Sasha walked quickly towards her class, frowning as she did so. That was by far the oddest conversation she had had with the Headmaster in all her years at Hogwarts.

* * *

"How did it go?" Tristan asked at dinner later than day.

Sasha was sitting with the Ravenclaws today, but Megyn was still with the Slytherins. She frowned and leaned closer to Tristan. "It was the weirdest thing." She muttered. "He started talking about how I could change the world, even though I was young and then the painting of Albus Dumbledore asked me to see my wand."

Tristan shrugged. "It must be because you're a Potter."

Sasha was about to absently agree, but she stopped herself. "No." She hesitated. "It wasn't just that…"

"What else could it have been?"

"I have no idea, but it wasn't just my name. There was something else. Speare seemed to be warning me about something and Dumbledore… he just seemed really interested in my wand." She drew it from behind her ear and twisted it in her fingers. "I don't get it; it's just a wand."

"Didn't you say it was Harry Potter's a long time ago?"

"Alright, so it's just a family heirloom kind of wand used by the Boy Who Lived." She said sarcastically. "It's still just a wand."

Tristan frowned into his soup as they fell silent. Sasha was too busy running her fingers over the beads along the length of the wand to notice his somber expression.

* * *

**Author's Note: So, I went through the folder with all my notes for this story and kind of tumbled back into it. I have a brief outline of the entire thing and I'm currently speed writing it all. But just a note, this isn't as detailed and character-development-rich as my other two; I wanted my writing to be as harsh as the plot, so we'll see how that goes.**

**Thanks readers :)**


	6. Embedded In Your Skin

Chapter Four

* * *

Sasha hissed with frustration as she looked into the mirror. Her tail flicked with impatience as she tried to slip back into her entirely human form. Her skin was still speckled and her round cat ears poked through her thick hair. Her eyes were completely inhuman. She was half dressed and struggling.

"Sasha?"

"Fuck!" She cursed loudly. "Megyn, don't come in!"

Megyn, being as stubborn as only a Zabini could be, came in anyways. She shut the door to Sasha's dorm quickly and her eyes widened when she looked at Sasha.

"For Merlin's sake, Sasha! You look bloody ridiculous!" Megyn laughed. "Are those _spots_?"

Sasha scowled at Megyn's reflection. "Yes, they're spots! I can't get back!"

"Did you transform completely?" Megyn couldn't help but grin.

"Yes."

"That's great, Potter!" Megyn laughed at her face. "Why don't you just transform back to whatever form you chose and then try becoming human again?"

Sasha rubbed a hand over her soft ears. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"Before you change, what _did _you chose?" Megyn's eyes narrowed. "Cheetah?"

She shook her head. "I can't choose my animagus form, really. I just kind of discovered it."

"Well?" Megyn raised a brow and crossed her arms expectantly.

"An ocelot."

"What the fuck is an ocelot, mate?"

Sasha rolled her eyes. "You'll see in a minute."

"I get to see?" Megyn clapped her hands. "Go! Go!"

"Shut up, Megyn!" Sasha snapped. "Just be quiet and read a book or something. Don't watch me; it's distracting."

Megyn, for once, did as she was told. She perched on Sasha's bed and began to write one of the essays she had in Herbology. She forced herself to focus completely on the paper and book in front of her.

Sasha closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. When her breaths and her heartbeat were perfectly in sync, she pictured the form of her animagus. She let it fill every nook of her mind. No detail was lost to her.

It was getting easier; this time was much faster than before. Her shifting bones were painfully sharp for the briefest of moments but her new skin was just as familiar as her human one. When she opened her eyes, she stared into molten golden eyes.

She turned, still a little clumsy on her four legs, and leapt onto Megyn's Herbology book. The Slytherin started in surprise and then she was grinning from ear to ear.

"You're a cat! Oh, that's absolutely brilliant, Sasha!" Megyn's eyes were bright as she looked over the small wild cat sitting on her book. "You're like a cute, mini little leopard."

Sasha tilted her head to the side and hissed slightly.

Megyn laughed. "I'm sorry; you're vicious and frightening. Merlin, that's bloody amazing! Can you talk? Do animagi talk?"

Sasha shook her cat head back and forth.

Megyn covered her mouth. "Oh, blimey; that's unbelievable! You're only a fourth year, and already an unregistered animagus. Can we show Tristan?"

Sasha batted at Megyn's fingers with one of her small paws before leaping off the bed. She became human just as she hit the ground.

"Fuck!" She cursed, rubbing her back. "I didn't think that would work so fast." She reached for the knickers she had discarded in front of the mirror.

"Sasha." Megyn said. "You've still got spots."

Sasha clipped on her bra before twisting to look in the mirror. She had a line of dark spots along her spin. "That's normal. Some mark or characteristic always stays with you from one form or another. I've had them for a while now."

Megyn watched her with awe as she pulled on her skirt and buttoned her blouse quickly. "Can we show Tristan?" She asked eagerly. "Can you do it again?"

Megyn nodded as she pulled on her shoes, hopping on one foot for a moment. "It gets easier each time and it wasn't as hard as the books made it seem."

"It's still extremely advanced magic, though." Megyn handed Sasha her wand.

Sasha stood still for a moment, twirling her wand between her fingers. "I suppose, but I started in the middle of the summer and I think I've got it almost perfectly down."

Megyn smiled and stood. "I guess you Potters are just amazing wizards, aren't you?"

Sasha shoved her gently out the door. "You're a bloody Zabini; your family is just as ancient and powerful as mine." She tucked her wand in the waistband of her skirt.

"Of course." Megyn said with a smirk. "But no one in my family is an animagus. At least, no one that I'm aware of."

Sasha linked arms with her as they left the Gryffindor Common Room and strode down the hall. "Well, now you know one."

Megyn nodded. "And an unregistered one at that. I thought Potters were righteous, but here you are proving me wrong and breaking laws."

"It's only one tiny little law." She replied with a smirk.

* * *

They found Tristan in the greenhouses of all places, speaking to Rook Johansson. Megyn and Sasha hung near the door, watching them for a moment.

Sasha was still not quite sure about the new professor. There was obviously something the young man was hiding, but she wasn't entirely sure it was bad. Everyone had secrets and wasn't she proof of that? Professor Johansson picked on Sasha more than anyone else in his class and every time she did something right, there was an odd shine to his eyes as if he was proud of her or that she was impressing him in some way. But most of the time, he was scolding her; the greenhouses were warm and she liked napping in a patch of light against the back wall as he lectured.

"Tristan." Megyn interrupted.

Professor Johansson seemed unsurprised to see them there. Tristan held up a finger in their direction. They continued to talk for a couple of minutes before the Professor laughed and told him that he should spend less time with his academics and more time with his lovely friends.

Sasha saw Megyn blush at this under her dark skin and the Gryffindor rolled her eyes.

Tristan dragged Megyn out of the greenhouses by her elbow before she could embarrass herself. Sasha was about to follow.

"Miss Potter?"

She turned to meet his eyes. "Yes, Professor?"

"You should wear a tank top under your shirt. Someone may question after your tattoos. You know the rules concerning them as well as anyone else." His eyes were serious and his mouth tight.

Sasha paled slightly. She quickly reached up to release her hair from its clip, letting it tumble to the small of her back and over the marks down her spine. "Thank you, professor." She left very quickly and hurried after her friends, feeling blindsided.


	7. Size Is No Guarantee of Power

Chapter Five

* * *

Tristan was good at being nosey and it was something he was exceptionally proud of but dared not flaunt. To him, it seemed incredibly selfish _not _to sneak into the Restricted Section of the library and look up information about his best friend's mysterious wand. Sasha was not particularly clever when it came to history and making connections, however great a person she was otherwise. To Tristan, however, it was obvious that the source of Albus Dumbledore's interest, and even Speare's and Johansson's, was that oddly beaded heirloom wand that didn't work for anyone other than Sasha. He knew this, as did Megyn, because they had tried to cast a spell or two with it the summer before when Sasha was passed out at three in the morning. The wand hadn't done a thing; it just sat in their hands like a particularly peculiar looking, but otherwise ordinary, branch.

Now, Tristan sat in a hidden nook in the Restricted Section at one in the morning with a dimly lit wand and a pile of books and he began to read.

He read an entire book on wand lore; myths, and perhaps some facts, about the making and specific structure of different wands. None of them seemed to relate to Sasha.

It wasn't until three books later that he stumbled onto something blaringly obvious. In a small book about the defeat of Voldemort, written by Hermione Granger herself, was a tiny little paragraph about the Deathly Hallows. It was the picture that caught Tristan's eye; a circle within a triangle divided by a line. And beside it was a tiny drawing of a peculiar looking wand.

_The Elder Wand._

Tristan nearly shouted. He knew Sasha's wand intimately and this drawing was identical down to the number of beads along its edge. He quickly sent the other books flying to their spots on the shelves before leaping to his feet and finding another book that would help him.

There was only half a page of text about the Elder Wand, but the other half of the page was filled by a drawing. Tristan quickly read through it; his hands nearly shook with surprise and excitement and glee.

"Fantastic!" He said softly, before tucking Hermione Granger's book into the larger one, and tucking it into his bag. He returned to his room unseen and unheard.

* * *

He was absolutely positive that he would tell Sasha at once about her wand until he saw her the next morning at breakfast. The legendary wand was stuck through her messy bun as it usually was, looking completely at home and in its proper place tucked into her dark hair. Sasha wore a dark blazer today, which was unusual for her usually messy and half put together outfit. He remembered her saying something about how her animagus marks were visible through her white blouse.

Tristan hesitated. Sasha was a Potter; she was an unregistered animagus now and already a powerful witch. Would she be as brilliant if she didn't possess the Elder Wand? Was she only exceptional because the most powerful wand in the world, for some reason, answered only to her?

Tristan was silent through breakfast at the Gryffindor table that morning; he kept a book open on the table and stared at it blankly as he thought, but he never turned the page. Megyn and Sasha didn't seem to notice. They continued their bickering and gossip until it was time to leave and Megyn rushed off with a pack of Slytherin friends as she went to her class.

"Tristan!" Sasha's voice made him look up in surprise as she caught up to him in the hallway.

He smiled, but it felt weak even to him. "Hey, Potter."

She frowned slightly; she was too perceptive to miss that. "Is something the matter?"

"Of course not, I just didn't get a lot of sleep last night."

She didn't looked convinced. She linked arms with him and spoke in a voice only he could hear. "Are you… Is it about yesterday?"

He stared at her blankly.

"You know… the animagus thing?" She lowered her voice.

He laughed, more surprised than amused. "Of course not! I'm proud of you; that's bloody brilliant if you ask me!" He ruffled her hair, careful not to touch the Elder Wand.

Sasha half scowled at him before smiling. "Good. I thought maybe it made you uncomfortable."

He slung an arm around her shoulders. "No, of course not." He said cheerfully. _It's that wand that makes me uncomfortable. _He thought. _You don't even know the enormity of the situation._

But she seemed to believe him and she hugged him one-armed about the waist as they walked down the corridor.

* * *

Tristan was not a particularly spontaneous person; he liked to plan and think about what he was doing so he wouldn't get himself into a mess he couldn't handle. He was still mentally debating with himself about the Elder Wand situation that afternoon during a free period with Sasha in one of the secluded courtyards in the castle.

Sasha was struggling to cast a particularly advanced spell for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Her wand kept bucking in her hand and it wasn't responding to her in the right way at all. She was growing more frustrated with each failure.

"For Godric's sake!" She shouted suddenly at the top of her lungs, startling Tristan so badly that he jumped. "Why can't this bloody wand just work?" She continued. "It's only a spell and it won't do anything the way I ask! No one else has troubles with their wand! This stupid thing is absolutely useless!"

Tristan was sitting against a tree a little ways away. He suddenly pulled out the restricted book and flung it open on the ground in front of him.

"It's not useless." He said softly. "It's the most powerful wand in the world."

Sasha whirled. "Excuse me?" She snapped. "I would have sworn I just heard you say that my wand-."

"Is the Elder Wand." He interrupted and pointed to the book.

Sasha stepped over to him and knelt to pick up the book. She held her wand gently between her teeth and she read with a deepening frown on her face.

"This is absolute bullocks." She said when she was done. "There's no way…" She twirled her wand between her fingers as she did when she was thinking.

"Isn't there?" Tristan asked. "The drawing is identical. Have you _ever _seen a wand like that before? And the last known wielder of the wand was _your _ancestor."

"But the Elder Wand holds no allegiance." She countered. "It obeys only the person who disarmed the previous owner. I was _handed _this wand. I didn't fight anyone for it!"

"Well, Harry Potter did and then the wand wasn't used until it chose you four years ago. You have his blood and that must have something to do with it."

Sasha was shaking her head the entire time. "No. Absolutely not! The Elder Wand is a legend, a _story_. It isn't real!" She seemed desperate to deny it, and stubborn too. "It's got to be a coincidence. A look-a-like." She held up the wand. "This is a perfectly average, if a bit old and faulty, wand!"

Tristan only picked up the book and tucked it back into his bag. If Sasha was going to be this stubborn, nothing he could say would sway her. He knew how she was; stubborn as a mule to a fault.

But he believed it. He believed that his best friend, a fifteen year old witch, was the wielder of the legendary Elder Wand. And it suddenly changed his view of her. She was part of something bigger than herself. If _this_ wand picked _this _girl, it had to have a plan. Tristan suddenly feared for Sasha's future and what it meant for the rest of the world.


	8. The Entire World

Chapter Six

* * *

Sasha still found it amusing that Tristan believed her stubborn wand was the legendary Elder Wand. As if the most powerful wand in the world would chose an insignificant child. She shoved her hands in the pockets of her skirt as she walked leisurely to breakfast; she was already fifteen minutes late. She had been careful of late to wear a blazer or a jumper over her blouse or a dark tank top underneath it. She was happy that Johansson had called them tattoos, but she had an itching feeling that he knew more than he let on.

"Sasha Potter!" Megyn shouted as soon as Sasha stepped into the Great Hall. "It's about time you got your lazy ass out of bed!"

"Miss Zabini!" Headmaster Speare called. "I'll have no profanity within my ear shot."

Megyn turned to salute the headmaster. "As you command, sir."

Sasha slid into her spot between Tristan and Megyn at the Slytherin table. Tristan was watching her carefully, but Megyn was all energy. She kept shouting down the table at the other Slytherins in the middle of the conversation before bouncing her attention back to Sasha.

"Did you put something in her drink?" She asked Tristan when Megyn was too busy harassing the first year sitting next to her to notice.

"No. She's been like this all morning. Bloody unbearable if you ask me."

Sasha sighed and picked up one of the papers that sat a little ways down the table. She began to read it, ignoring Megyn and treading carefully around Tristan. If he was serious about this Elder Wand business, she didn't want to blatantly offend him by not believing him. She would humor him a bit for now.

Something caught her eye as she scanned the words on the front page of the Prophet and she suddenly remembered Headmaster Speare mentioning something about reading the paper.

_Another Muggleborn Family Added to Death Toll._

Sasha froze with her cup hallway to her mouth. She read the article quickly; a husband, a wife, their nine year old twin boys, and an infant girl had been brutally murdered in their own house. This is the seventh incident of this kind and they were all linked by the skull and snake symbol burned into the wall of the house.

Quickly, she flipped through the Prophet, feeling more and more sick with every blaring headline she read.

_Pureblood Bribery Scandal Uncovered._

_Fight in Diagon Alley Ends With the Death of Three._

_Fifth Auror Pair Killed by Unknown Attacker._

_Minister of Magic Refuses to Comment on Recent Atrocities._

_Political Unrest Is Spreading Nation-Wide._

_Head Auror Ordered by Minister Not to Comment._

Sasha felt her stomach roll. Her _father _is a part of all of this; of course he was, he was the Head Auror, but how had she not realized it before? How had her parents never mentioned it to her or in any of the letters they sent?

Sasha stood so quickly that the bench she sat on screeched. Tristan and Megyn looked at her with concern.

"Sasha, what's-?" Megyn began.

Sasha interrupted, having hardly heard. "I'm sorry; I've got to go."

She hoisted her bag over her shoulder and practically sprinted from the Great Hall. She ignored Speare and Johansson's shouts of her name. She pulled her wand from her twisted braid and ran her fingers over it as she made her way through the empty corridors.

How long had this been going on?

* * *

Megyn and Tristan walked into the library during their free period with their arms linked. They hadn't seen Sasha the entire day; she hadn't been in any classes or in lunch.

"There she is." Megyn pointed to a table far in the corner.

Sasha had stacks and piles of newspapers spread across an entire table. Her dark hair was a massive mess; clearly she was distraught. Her wand was tucked behind her ear.

Megyn and Tristan halted next to her. "Sasha?"

She jerked in surprise and looked up at them. Her green eyes were wide and her face was paler than usual. She stood jerkily; wrapping her arms around both Tristan and Megyn's neck. Tristan and Megyn looked at each other over the top of Sasha's head, but hugged her back.

"The entire world…" She said hoarsely. "It's all falling to pieces."


	9. Sword In the Darkness

Chapter Seven

* * *

"Vecel Zabini, you are being accused of the cold-blooded murder of twenty-three civilians, consisting of men, woman, and children."

The regal looking man in chains sitting before the Wizengamot did not lower himself to begging for a less drastic punishment. He was not ashamed of what he had done.

"Do have anything you wish to say to plead your innocence?"

"I murdered those unworthy of their magic." He said coolly. "They were impure."

One of the women sitting before him made a noise of disgust. "Who are you to decide who is worthy and unworthy?"

Vecel Zabini lifted his chin. "I am a Zabini, from the ancient and noble family that has been pure since before the First Wizarding War."

"Mr. Zabini, was your wife or your daughter involved in any of these murders?"

Vecel thought of his beautiful and proud wife, and his stubborn and audacious daughter. "No, they were not."

"Was your wife or your daughter aware of your crimes?"

"No, they were not."

"Do you have any witnesses you would like to call to the stand?"

Vecel Zabini was powerful and he had many friends, but he would not allow any of them to testify. He had been caught red handed, with blood on his skin that did not belong to him. He was guilty and he would not be ashamed. "No."

"A vote then." The man who spoke looked at his peers. "Innocent?"

Not a single hand went up.

"Guilty."

All the hands rose.

The man banged the small wooden hammer on his podium. "Vecel Zabini! You are convicted of the murder of innocents and are hereby sentenced to a life sentence in Azkaban."

Vecel let the guards drag him out of the room. In the hallway, he was blinded by the lights and flashes of bulbs as dozens of cameras went off. He ignored the questions being shouted in his face.

* * *

Sasha skipped that days' classes with Megyn and Tristan. They sat holed up in her dorm, which was the biggest of the three friends' dorm. Megyn's eyes were red from crying and she still clenched her mother's letter in her fist.

"I can't believe he killed all those people!" She cried. "He was cruel at times, but never a murderer!"

Sasha didn't know how to comfort her, but Tristan had her free hand tightly clenched in his own grip. Sasha sat awkwardly on the floor leaning against Megyn's legs.

"He killed children." Megyn said miserably. "He killed some girls our age! Did he see my face when he killed them?"

In the flick of an eye, Sasha shed her human form and leapt free of her pile of clothes. She curled in Megyn's lap and began to purr. Megyn bent and kissed Sasha's head. A few tears dropped into her yellow-gold fur.

"Never thought you'd be a cat comforting me." She said with a sad little laugh.

Tristan wrapped his arm around Megyn's shoulders. "Is your mother coming to visit you?"

"I don't know. She said she didn't want to leave the house with all the reporters about."

Sasha growled slightly.

Tristan nodded. "She should be here with you; you're her only daughter and this isn't easy."

Megyn shrugged miserably. "I have you guys. I'll be fine."

Sasha purred even louder.

* * *

The guards at Azkaban poked at the body with their wands. One of them looked up at the monstrous prison while the other checked the man's neck.

"He's dead."

"Reckon he jumped?"

The other shook his head. "No windows in his cell."

"He was a right bastard, never much liked him. Killed three babes not much older than my Sarah."

"Probably out of his pureblooded mind." The other said snidely. "Come on then, help me drag him up."

One guard took the corpse's feet while the other grabbed his wrists and together they carried the body of Vecel Zabini back into the prison. He only lived through two days of imprisonment.

* * *

This time, Megyn received no letter from her mother. She read about her father's death in the paper that morning at breakfast while Tristan held her around the waist and Sasha glared at everyone who's gaze lingered a second too long. She had already hexed two fifth years and even one seventh year that had made a snide comment about Megyn or her father.

Megyn cried openly at breakfast. It was Professor Johansson who left the staff table and half carried the girl out so that she could get some sleeping draught from the infirmary. Sasha and Tristan followed. Tristan sat at her bedside while Johansson spoke to Sasha a little ways away.

"This is just the beginning, Miss Potter." He said softly.

She frowned. "Why would that matter to us?"

He gripped her shoulder. "Be strong, Sasha. You're going to need it more than anyone else when the outside world reaches Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts is safe." She said fiercely.

"Nowhere is safe, Miss Potter." His voice was a bit sad. "Remember who the enemy is when it comes to it."

He left, leaving Sasha speechless and confused.


End file.
